Tender Loving Care
by Zelofheda
Summary: When Guy gets shot in the shoulder, he expects Marion to provide tender, loving care. And she does, sort of.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Tender Loving Care

Author: TaserdbyJack

Disclaimer: Characters and situations are taken from Robin Hood, the 2006 series from the BBC, and belong to that show and its producers. I do not own them, I'm only borrowing.

Timeframe: Season One, after Episode Five

Feedback: Constructive criticism is welcome

"Sir Guy!"

Approaching Knighton Hall, Sir Guy of Gisborne stopped his horse and looked back in annoyance. There was a man standing there with a bow and arrow, pointing it directly at him. At first, Guy thought it must be Robin Hood, come out of hiding in Sherwood Forest to annoy him yet again. Then he realized that it was an older man with a vaguely familiar face. One of the villagers, perhaps?

"My son died because of you!" the man called out, and his voice broke. The tip of the arrow wavered, and Guy turned his horse, unsheathing his sword at the same time. Guy had no idea who the man was, or what he was talking about, but he recognized a threat when he saw one, and reacted instinctively.

"Edmund died in your mine!" the man sobbed, then caught himself and took aim again. "This is for him!"

Guy had already started his horse galloping as the arrow left the string, and raised his sword to slice the man down. There was an explosion of pain in his left shoulder and he was knocked backwards, his sword arm waving wildly as he struggled to stay in the saddle. The tip of his sword must have nicked his horse, because it reared up and completed the job of dumping him on the ground. Agony pumped from his shoulder through the rest of his body, and darkness fell towards him for one short moment.

Cursing that he hadn't brought his men along, although the last thing on his mind this evening had been company when he was trying to woo Lady Marion, Guy struggled to sit up. The older man stood there, watching, and as Guy staggered to his feet, the man's nerve broke and he turned and ran into the forest. Probably gone to join Robin Hood as an outlaw, Guy mused. No doubt Hood would welcome anyone with open arms, especially if they could announce that they had put an arrow into Guy of Gisborne. Even if the shot hadn't killed him immediately, there was hope that the wound would fester and gangrene would take him. Guy grimaced, thinking of Hood's prospective glee, and vowed not to give him the satisfaction.

Awkwardly sheathing his sword with his good hand, Guy looked down at the feathered shaft protruding from his upper chest. It would have to come out. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped his fingers around the end of the arrow and gave it a tug. The resulting torment brought the threat of darkness back, and with a bellow, Guy let go. He'd have to get help. As though hearing his thought, his horse nudged him in the back. Guy turned and reached for the reins, then realized he wouldn't be able to mount. Thankfully, Knighton Hall was not far.

It was a walk of only a few hundred yards, but at the end of it, Guy was shaking with pain and exhaustion. His legs were strangely weak, but he managed to stay upright and bellow for the occupants of the house. "Edward! Marion! Edward!"

The door banged open and Sir Edward came out. "Sir Guy …?" His voice trailed off as he saw the arrow, and he rushed forward to help.

"Come into the house," Sir Edward said as he took Guy by his good arm. Supporting him for those last few steps, he called out, "Marion!"

A moment later, Guy felt a hand on his left shoulder. Even the slightest pressure caused new agony, and he lashed out without thinking, tearing his arm away from Edward's grasp and swiping madly at whatever stupid creature who'd caused him pain. At the very last instant, he realized who it was, but by then it was too late. His fist crashed into the side of Marion's face, and she fell to the ground with a cry.

"Marion!" Guy gasped hoarsely, feeling a stab of new pain in his heart that had nothing to do with the arrow. "Marion! Forgive me!"

Edward was already at his daughter's side, lifting her up. "Marion? Are you all right?"

She stared at Guy, indignation turning into shock as she caught sight of the arrow in his shoulder.

"I will live," she replied, but the tremor in her voice belied her quick, anxious smile. "Sir Guy, I am sorry. I did not realize you were wounded."

Guy reached out to brush the tears from her cheek, but she flinched away, and he dropped his hand. Pretending not to notice, Edward said, "Let us get you inside, Sir Guy."

"I'll ride for the physician," Marion offered. This time, Guy did not hesitate to clasp her arm. "Marion! Stay!"

He'd been too harsh with her again, he could see it in her face. Belatedly, he added, "Please?" and was rewarded when she stopped resisting.

"I am sure my wound would heal better if … _you_ were to care for it," he explained. Maybe a little flattery would help his cause.

He watched intently as she glanced to her father and then back to him again. At last, she said, "I have little experience, but if it is your wish ..."

Guy felt a triumphant smile tug at his lips. Marion and her father helped him into their house and guided him to lay down on the table in the main room.

"I will fetch some water," Marion said, and dashed into the kitchen. She returned with a sloshing bucket and some cloths.

"Marion, will you hold him on that side?" Edward said. "I will remove the arrow."

"Would you like something to bite on?" Marion was rolling something into a gag, and Guy frowned. Wasn't that the shawl he had recently given to her, after the Sheriff had had her hair cut off? Did she value her present so little that she would let him chew it to pieces? When Marion tried to stuff the roll of cloth into his mouth, he clamped his lips together and turned his head away.

"Ready?" Edward placed one hand on Guy's arm, and Marion leaned her entire upper body across Guy's right side to keep him down. Guy had just enough time to wish she would stay like that forever before Edward grasped the arrow and pulled. Fighting both of them in a vain attempt to escape the torment, Guy shrieked, his voice climbing as high as it had not climbed since he'd been a boy. But the arrow was out now, and he sank back down onto the table, trembling and sweating. Marion straightened up as well, leaving the place where she had been lying now feeling cold and deprived.

"Hold that there," Edward commanded, placing a folded piece of cloth in Guy's hand, then pressing the hand against the wound.

"Can you sit up?" Marion asked. "We must remove your clothing."

With Edward's help, Guy pulled himself up into a sitting position. It didn't hurt quite as much now that the arrow was out, but it was still painful, and he groaned. He was pleased to see Marion wince in sympathy.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Sir Edward asked as Marion reached for the fastenings on Guy's jacket. "Do you know who shot you?"

"Robin Hood?" Marion suggested.

"A man," Guy said curtly. "He said his son died in the mine."

"Well, that narrows it down," Marion murmured sarcastically, and Guy felt a flare of anger. Yes, many men had died in the Treeton Mine, but that wasn't his fault. Why hadn't that stupid peasant shot at the Sheriff instead?

Marion removed the jacket from his right arm, then went around to his left and began to ease the sleeve down his other arm. When it was free, she tossed it onto the nearby bench and returned to work on his shirt. As she gently tugged it over his head, her fingers brushed his skin. He shivered.

"Are you cold, Sir Guy?" Edward asked. "Shall I fetch a blanket?"

"Yes," Guy said, hoping for a moment alone with Marion. But when Edward went upstairs to the bedchambers, Marion went with him, excusing her absence with a smile and a quick explanation. "I have left my sewing things elsewhere."

Guy had flattened the pad of cloth against his bare shoulder as soon as his shirt had come off, but now he lifted it up for a quick glance. The hole left by the arrow wasn't very big, about the thickness of his little finger, but blood was still flowing out of it. Blood also stained his chest down to his waist, and he realized by the slight tremble of his fingers that he was starting to feel the loss of it.

Edward came down the stairs first and settled a blanket over Guy's right side, leaving the wound clear. Although he hadn't felt cold before, Guy now found he was grateful for the warmth, and suddenly wished he were tucked up in bed under more warm blankets. Marion followed half a minute later, going to the window for enough light from the setting sun to thread her needle.

"Father, may I have a candle here?" Marion asked, coming back to the table.

Edward reached for one of the candles and held it where Marion had indicated. Wetting a rag in the bucket, Marion dabbed at the wound. Guy shivered again as small rivulets of cold water slid down his ribs.

"It's deeper than I thought," Marion said, "but I will do my best."

She took up the needle and thread, and Guy gritted his teeth as she pierced his skin and drew the edges of the wound together. She took two stitches, just to be certain, then bandaged it with a clean cloth and tied it in place.

Marion pulled the blanket over both of his shoulders, then took a step back from the table. Guy wiggled to the edge and put his feet down. When he wanted to stand up, however, his knees buckled, and he had to catch himself with his good hand on Marion's shoulder.

"Sir Guy, you are weak from loss of blood," Edward exclaimed. "You must stay here to-night and rest."

Both Guy and Marion looked at him in surprise. Guy was about to protest when he realized it meant that he'd be continuing to receive Marion's tender ministrations, and felt a surge of triumph. The old man had practically given Guy his blessing! Perhaps the evening would provide the chance for Marion to get to know him better, to see that there was more to him than the part she seemed to despise. Reluctantly letting go of her shoulder, Guy sank down onto the nearby chair.

Marion, however, was not so willing to accept the situation. "I could ride to the castle and tell your men to send a carriage for you."

Even if Guy hadn't envisioned his shoulder being bounced and jolted all the way back to the castle, the thought of leaving Marion was almost as painful. "Perhaps your father is right. And …I would not want your good work undone by the roughness of the road."

"I do not think my work is so shoddy that it could be undone that easily," Marion shot back, and Guy felt heat rising in his face. How had he managed to insult her again?

"I did not mean that, " he stammered. "I meant –"

"It is getting dark," Edward said firmly. "Marion will stay here, as I do not like her to be alone outside when it is dark."

"The moon is almost full," Marion protested, but Edward shook his head. "We can talk about a carriage to-morrow."

Guy glanced gratefully at Edward and saw him giving his daughter a hard, meaningful stare. She returned his stare with a defiant one of her own, a look that Guy could admire, as long as it was not directed at him.

"Marion, take Sir Guy's horse to the stable," Edward said. "Sir Guy, let me help you upstairs to the bedchamber."

Marion obeyed with an unhappy face. Leaning heavily on Edward's shoulder, Guy managed to get up the stairs, and Edward opened the first door at the top. "This is Marion's room. I think you will be more comfortable here alone than with me."

Marion's room! Marion's bed! It was almost as intoxicating as the thought of sleeping next to Marion herself. Guy suddenly wanted to dance and sing, neither of which he did very well or very often. Then, quite suddenly, the Sheriff's voice came into his head with his usual advice about avoiding women. _Lepers, Gisborne, lepers_! Silently telling the Sheriff to push off, Guy eased himself down to the mattress. It even smelled like her. Edward unbuckled Guy's sword belt, then knelt down to pull his boots off and pulled the covers up to his waist as though he were a child. Guy was reminded of his own parents, long gone now, and felt an almost violent ache to be part of a family again.

Marion came back then, thundering up the stairs at a most unladylike speed and looking around in consternation. "Father? What is this?"

"You may sleep in my room to-night, daughter," Edward said firmly. "We will be right next door, Sir Guy, if you should need us in the night."

"Perhaps Sir Guy would like some wine," Marion suggested. "If he has lost so much blood that he cannot travel, he must need something to fortify him."

Edward looked surprised, then nodded. Marion went downstairs, then came back up with a wineskin and three goblets. She poured for all of them, then lifted her own. "To a speedy recovery."

"To a speedy recovery," Edward echoed. Guy took a large swallow. It wasn't as good as the Sheriff's wine, but it was acceptable. He drank again, and when he had finished, Marion poured more. She was just about to fill his goblet a third time when Edward said, "Time for bed, Marion."

Marion hesitated, then poured it anyway, leaving Guy little choice but to drink. Stoppering the skin, she laid it down next to the bed so that Guy could reach it if he wanted, then smiled. Guy watched from the bed as she pulled the shutters shut, placed his now empty goblet on the table, then picked up the candle and went to the door. "Good night, Sir Guy. Sleep well."

"Sleep well, Marion, Edward," he replied. They went out and left him in darkness.

Guy slipped easily into sleep, but much later in the night, he woke with a gasp of pain. In the dream that he'd been having just before he woke up, Robin Hood had been stabbing him, twisting the knife in his shoulder. Awake now, he realized he must have tried to turn over onto his left side, into the position he usually assumed while sleeping. It had only been a dream. The outlaw was far away in the cold, lonely forest, nowhere near Marion or her bed. With a groan, Guy tried to settle down again to sleep.

But the room was no longer as dark as it had been, and one of the shutters squeaked in the wind. Lifting his head to glare at it, Guy saw that the window was open, letting in moonlight. It was just bright enough for him to make out a dark figure moving stealthily through the room, on a path from the window to the door, a dark figure with a hood over its head.


	2. Chapter 2

A great big thank you to everybody who replied. Here's the next and last part, and I hope you enjoy it enough to comment again.

"Hood!" Guy shouted, propelling himself out of bed. Pain shot through his shoulder, slowing him down. The shadowy figure leaped to the door, fumbling with the latch, and Guy staggered towards him. "Edward! Marion!"

He didn't have time to shout "Wake up!" The figure spun around and kicked out with one leg, lifting it high and slamming his foot hard into Guy's wounded shoulder. The force of the kick sent Guy staggering backwards, where he bumped against the bed and collapsed backwards onto it. For several terrible seconds, all he could do was lay there and scream inarticulately.

"Sir Guy!" That was Edward's voice from the doorway.

"Locksley!" Guy shouted, struggling to sit up. "Catch him!"

"Where?"

"Down the stairs!" Guy listened to Edward make his way down the steps and then, after what seemed like an eternity, come back up. He had lit a candle and was carrying it carefully up the stairs; the light preceded him and showed his face when he finally arrived.

"There's no one here," he reported. "Perhaps you were dreaming?"

"He was here! Robin Hood was here!" Guy shouted. Then he realized something. "Where's Marion?"

Edward glanced around in dismay and called out as well. "Marion!"

There was an answer from downstairs, and then the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. "Father? Sir Guy? What's wrong?"

"Sir Guy claims Robin was here," Edward explained.

"Where were you?" Guy demanded. "Did you sneak out to meet him?"

"I was in the privy," Marion stated. "And I saw and heard no one. You must have been dreaming, Sir Guy."

"I saw him!" Guy cried. "I saw Locksley!"

"Have you taken a fever already?" Marion came into the room and laid her hand on his forehead. Her fingers were soft and surprisingly warm. He wanted to grab her hand and kiss it, but she took it away too quickly.

"You do not feel hot," she stated.

"I saw Hood," Guy said. "He kicked me. And look! The window is open! It was not open when I fell asleep."

Edward looked surprised, then angry.

"I opened it when I went to the privy," Marion said blithely. "I looked in to make sure you were all right, and it stank of wine in here."

Edward sniffed. "I cannot smell any wine."

"That is because I opened the window," Marion explained slowly, as though speaking to a particularly stupid child. She and her father exchanged the same set of stares that they had done earlier that evening, one hard, the other defiant.

"You had a nightmare," Edward finally said. He went to the window and looked out, then fastened the shutters. "There are still a few hours until dawn. Let us all go back to sleep."

Grudgingly, Guy arranged himself under the covers again. He had not been dreaming. The pain in his shoulder had been too real, even for a nightmare. Someone had been there. It took a long time for him to fall asleep, and when he woke up again, he felt distinctly bleary-eyed and short-tempered.

There was a tap at the door. "Sir Guy, are you awake?"

Marion! Guy sat up, moving his left arm without thinking, and let out a yelp of pain. Marion must have taken the sound as an invitation, because she opened the door and entered.

"Good morning, Sir Guy," she said, then stopped and bent down to pick something off the floor. "I was about to bring you downstairs for breakfast, but I see I should not have bothered."

"What?" he asked. "Why?"

"You did have a visitor last night, but it was not Robin." She held up a small pie. "It was the Nightwatchman."

"The Nightwatchman!" Guy felt anger surge through him. "Here?"

"He must have heard that you had been injured," Marion said brightly, tossing the pie into Guy's lap, then made a show of scanning the floor more carefully. "Is there a ha'penny here, too? Then we will know that he wanted to make sure you could still pay your taxes and have enough to eat, too."

Feeling mocked, Guy picked the pie up and hurled it into the wall, where it smashed most satisfyingly and slid to the floor in a glorious mess.

"I am not poor and I am not an invalid!" he shouted. "I do not need the Nightwatchman to bring food or money to my bedside!"

Marion stared at him in consternation, then said quietly, "You've been bleeding again."

Guy glanced down at his shoulder, where there was a huge dark spot on the bandage. Marion came over and lifted the corner of the cloth for a peek. The blood had dried, and she had to tug a little to reveal the wound. "This stitch has ripped completely through."

"The Nightwatchman," Guy growled. "He kicked me right there, as though he knew exactly where I was wounded!"

Marion shook her head. "Surely it was accidental. Oh, I wish I had never opened that window!"

She sounded so fierce and so concerned about him that Guy's heart melted a little, but he was still angry. He wondered if the man who had shot him in the first place was actually the Nightwatchman, and decided it was a good possibility. Who else knew where the arrow had gone in? Maybe the man had tried to sneak in and finish him off, and had dropped the pie in the struggle. Yes, it had to be. Only the pain in Guy's shoulder had saved him from being stabbed in his sleep. "When I meet that Nightwatchman, I will kill him."

Instead of gazing approvingly into his eyes, as he'd half-hoped, Marion kept her head down and said only, "I will have to stitch that again. Come downstairs."

Guy was not as shaky that morning as he had been the night before, and made it downstairs under his own power. Edward was sitting at the head of the table, but relinquished his place to Guy and took a seat on the bench instead. Turning the chair so that it would better catch the light from the window, Marion motioned for Guy to sit down. Then she carefully undid the strips that held the bandage in place, and Guy closed his eyes to better enjoy the feeling of her fingertips on his skin. The splash of cold water made him jump in surprise.

"Sorry," Marion said, ducking the rag into the bucket again. "I should have warned you."

Marion finished washing the blood from Guy's chest, then cut a length of thread and picked up the needle. Guy watched her hands until they stilled suddenly, then glanced up to find her looking at him. He smiled hesitantly, hopefully, but Marion didn't smile back. Frowning in concentration, she bored the needle into his skin until he thought she must mean for it to come out his back. He couldn't help making a sound of protest.

"Do not be so clumsy, Marion," Edward chided her.

"This would be easier with a curved needle," Marion muttered as she continued to push. The tip of the needle finally emerged on the other side of the wound and she pulled it through, then gently tied a knot in the thread and cut the ends short. "If I am to do this more often, I will have to ask the blacksmith if he could make some for me."

Guy wondered if he should get to the blacksmith first and commission curved needles as a gift. Not that he intended to get shot again, but now that Robin Hood and this Nightwatchman both seemed to have arrows reserved for him, it was probably best to be prepared. And Marion's ministrations were so much more tender than those of the physician.

Marion laid a pad of clean cloth over the wound and used fresh strips to tie the bandage in place. When she'd finished with that, she stepped to the end of the table and returned with a folded shirt. "I've washed the blood from your clothes and hung them up."

"We will bring them to Locksley when they are dry," Edward put in. "In the meantime, I have sent a message to the castle for your sergeant to send a coach."

Guy nodded acknowledgement.

"You can wear this for now." Marion held out a men's shirt. Assuming that it was one of Edward's, Guy allowed her to dress him in it, starting with his left arm, then pulling the collar and the right sleeve down at the same time. She was careful, but he still had cause to hiss once or twice with pain. When she'd finished, she said, "I will make a sling for your arm."

She picked up a familiar looking roll of gauzy material, and as she shook it out, Guy recognized the shawl she'd wanted to gag him with the night before.

"Do you value my present so little, that you would use it for this?" Guy growled as Marion arranged it around his arm.

Marion flushed and looked away. "On – on the contrary, Sir Guy. Is it not the custom for a lady to give her knight a token of her appreciation … when he has expressed an interest in her?"

"Oh," he said, feeling stupid and pleased at the same time. "I apologize. I – I know little of such customs."

Her knight! She'd called him her knight!

Forgivig him with a quick smile, Marion leaned forward and knotted the ends of the shawl around his neck. "All done. Would you like some porridge now?"

Guy leaned back, smiling as well and thinking, _This is what it would be like if we were married_. Aloud, he said, "Thank you."

As Marion went off to the kitchen, there was a knock at the door. Edward went to open it, then stepped back to let Guy's sergeant enter.

"Sir Guy," the sergeant said. "The coach is here."

"My horse is in the stables," Guy told him. "See to him."

"I'll show you," Edward volunteered, and they both went out. Guy realized that the breeze from the open door was chilling his bare feet, and lifted his voice. "Marion! I need my boots!"

"A moment, Sir Guy," she called back. She sounded harassed, and Guy remembered that they didn't have any servants here at Knighton Hall. Perhaps they could not afford to keep them, now that Edward was no longer sheriff of Nottingham.

Marion emerged from the kitchen with a hunk of bread and a covered tankard, and placed both before Guy. "Bread and beer will be easier for you to eat on the way."

"I appreciate your kindness," Guy said, lifting the tankard to toast her. Marion had already turned to flit up the stairs, however, and didn't see it. She returned quickly with his possessions in her hands. Laying his sword belt carefully on the table, Marion arranged his boots on the floor next to his feet and stepped back. Guy stretched his legs and waited expectantly until she realized he wouldn't be able to get them on by himself. He loved watching her blush.

Marion knelt down and picked up one boot, but just then, Edward came back in and said, "Marion, let the sergeant do that."

Groaning inwardly, Guy submitted to having his sergeant wrestle his boots onto his feet and buckle his sword belt around his waist. He waited for the man to jostle his arm so that he would have an excuse to give him an angry shove, but the man was too careful, leaving Guy feeling even more disgruntled. All too soon, it was time to say good-bye. Tucking the bread into his sling, Guy took the tankard in his hand and walked to the door, then turned around.

"My thanks, my lady," he said. "Edward."

"Get well soon," Marion said, and Edward merely nodded.

During the ride, Guy ate and daydreamed of excuses to visit Marion again soon. The stitches would have be taken out, but that would not be for days yet. Perhaps he could complain of fever and ask her to check for signs of infection. He had to return the tankard, anyway. And the shirt. And pick up his clothes once they were dry. Maybe he should do that to-morrow, before they took the opportunity away from him by sending his things to Locksley for one of his servants to deal with. There were so many possibilities that Guy was still smiling when they reached the castle, and did not even bother to hide it when the Sheriff came down the steps to the courtyard.

No doubt the man had come to gloat, to see his lieutenant with his arm in a sling and unable to control his horse. Guy watched the Sheriff's eyes raking over his borrowed shirt and coming to rest on the very feminine shawl. Then the Sheriff lifted his eyebrows and asked simply, "Love bite?"

The End


End file.
